


Pride

by WelcomeToTheEndOfThings



Category: Original Work
Genre: Canon LGBTQ Character, Gen, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Pride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:34:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7560283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelcomeToTheEndOfThings/pseuds/WelcomeToTheEndOfThings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A poem about the experience of pride festival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pride

I wish I could go back in time, to the day of pride. It was only Sunday yet I miss it already, hence being days passed. I don't do crowds but there was something about being there that took away my anxiety. I fit in and I could finally breathe freely. I wasn't strapped down into a suffocating mask of a life anymore, hell I wish I had not had to leave my older sister's house on a Tuesday after that Sunday.

Paint that held tears streaked itself across my body as I danced and laughed and died a bit more inside at the thought of having to leave. Thrilled voices cried out in excitement as they moved and lost themselves in the crushing joy of it all. There will always be naysayers in the world, to knock a person down a few pegs; but it does no good to listen to them. A person must thrive for themselves and that was what every single person who swayed in time with the wind did. My face was split in half from the exuberance that ran through me and even though my eyes fell flat from the exhaustion; I was free and I wish I still was.

No, I am not free anymore. I am a monster. Stuck inside a cage. Confused, unsure, and needing a push in the right direction. Is that what you want me to say?

Well I can’t because besides from the fact that I’m not free, not yet anyways: they’re things people have said to me. Not with their mouths but with their eyes; over brimming with indignation and disgust at who I am. I refuse to drape myself in the cloths of a fickle heart; which is not what I possess.

I do not have the will to stand up yet but soon I will no longer hide beneath these facades.


End file.
